Embraced in Light
by The Messenger
Summary: Tonight all her defences came tumbling down. She was vulnerable, weary, almost broken and she had never been more beautiful. An excerpt from an unwritten Lord of the Rings Fan Fiction. Eomer/OC, AU, non canon.


**The following story is Eomer/OC, AU, non canon and a little Mary Sue. It is an excerpt from a story not yet written but I was inspired enough to write this small tale. The woman is not yet named, nor is her friends or the evil that is discussed. Should I ever write the whole story, everything that is here in this tale would be explained and may possibly be re written. Comments are welcome, no flames please. I own nothing but original characters and plot.**

Embraced in Light

It was late in the night and Eomer was still wide-awake. He had assumed as soon as he laid down he would drift to sleep but his mind was still active replaying the events of the last few days over in his mind.

He looked to the woman sleeping in his arms. She was in a deep sleep. Tears can do that. After all the emotions have been drained away there is no energy left to do much else, not even dream. Aye, the energy it takes to cry out all your emotions is even more taxing than the energy it takes to conceal them, to maintain control. Showing emotion was not a sign of weakness though, she had said so herself.

"Anger gives you the fire to fight for what you love, love gives you something to fight for. – All fear is the fear of loss. If you are not afraid to lose then there is nothing you love and if you love nothing what is the point in living? – Courage is not the absence of fear; it is the willingness to do something despite the fear. – It is easy to turn a blind eye to those in pain for most people are not strong enough to care and it takes a great deal of strength to show compassion."

No, showing emotion was not a sign of weakness, emotion was strength. Besides his sister, the woman in his arms now was the strongest woman Eomer knew. With the exception of tonight.

Tonight all her defences came tumbling down. She was vulnerable, weary, almost broken and she had never been more beautiful. She cried in front of him, something he had never seen her do before. And has she had counselled him in his anger, listened to him in his frustration, held him after the healers had tended to his own battle wounds, Eomer held her in his arms as she cried.

He replayed the events that brought him to this moment. They had all returned from battle, a battle which they were thrust into when the great Celebration of Heroes at Minas Tirith had been invaded and all those of royal blood and great power had been stolen away by the Uruki. The last remaining Orcs of Mordor and their new leader, a Count who demanded retribution for his family slain during the War of the Ring, had bred the Uruki again. He had kidnapped those born, bred and destined into power for he required the power of Kings for his Master, for his Queen. Not unlike the Lady Galadriel, this Queen was not dark but beautiful but she was as terrible as the morn, treacherous as the seas, stronger than the foundations of the Earth. She wanted to rule the universe but she would give him all of Middle Earth to rule. It would be within her realm of control to do, if the Dark Count gave her the power she craved. A power possessed by royalty and by the woman Eomer now holds in his arms, a power possessed by her and her comrades, her sisters in arms. A power the Dark Count would have bled from her if they had not won the fight.

Yes, they were victorious in their struggle. And when they had all returned to Minas Tirith, she retired to her room and was not heard from for the rest of the evening. Her friends told him that she would often retreat to the solitude of her room after a battle, that she preferred to be consoled by the darkness of night and the quiet of dawn. This was not unusual. Every soldier, every warrior had a different way of coping with the aftermath of war. But her dearest companion was concerned for her though and confided in Eomer that in last couple of years she had retreated to her room more often after battles, where once she and all of her friends used to feast in celebration and sing and dance in victory.

He was worried. Over the last few months this King and this warrior had become friends. He had come to know and care deeply for this woman. She was always strong in front of everyone, believing they needed her strength to be strong themselves. Ironically, if not hypocritically while she encouraged others to express their emotion, that to show it was nothing to be ashamed of, she often hid hers. She did not like feeling so exposed, her thoughts and feelings so readily visible for everyone to see. She believed without control, without a mask, her enemies would exploit her, use whatever they interpreted as weakness against her. At the same she used that tactic to trick her enemies should they view a display of emotion as weakness. She knew she acted as a fool most times. Sometimes it was for the enjoyment of others for she liked to make people laugh but to her enemies it gave her an advantage. They see her act like fool and so they took her for one, underestimating how skilled and smart she really was. Yes, she had to control everything, even what people thought of her. Sometimes the games, the tomfoolery, the control, it was exasperating but it was a flaw he had come to understand and in battle a skill he had begun to respect. But there was none of her regular humour after this battle, not even relief that it was over, no spark of joy that they had won and defeated the Count. She was quiet, too quiet and sombre and all the way back to Minas Tirith she seemed lost in her own thoughts.

It was late and most had retired to their rooms, content to celebrate their victory another day but Eomer still had his adrenaline pumping through his veins. He had long since cleaned, changed and met with council but he went to her room that night instead of his own. He had to see her, to see if she was alright. He knocked at her door. There was no answer. He pushed the door open and stepped in the room. He saw her then. She was sitting on her bed, staring out the window, her back facing him. He closed the door quietly and walked over to face her.

She was clean. The dirt, grime sweat and blood of battle had been washed away. Her hair was clean and her torn dress had been removed replaced with a soft blue night shift. Her eyes were blank. She was not staring out the window as he originally thought. She was staring at the floor. He moved forward and lightly touched her cheek. He moved her hair back off her shoulders. She looked up at him then and the sadness in her eyes broke his heart. She spoke quietly but in the stillness of the room it was not hard to hear.

"It doesn't feel like it used to." She had said to him.

She had fought many battles, long before he ever knew her. He found it hard to think of her as a soldier. Admittedly he found it hard to think of any woman that way including his own sister but he knew what she meant. Many young soldiers, including himself, enjoyed the glory of battle, the spoils of war, the exhilaration of victory, but years of battles and long wars can take their toll. The blood and carnage that war brings begin to haunt your dreams and when you lose friends and loved ones even victory tastes bittersweet. He had lost his father, his mother, his cousin and his uncle, many dear friends, and almost his sister. But this warrior woman had not lost those she cared about; indeed her victories spared her this pain. Why were her latest victories so different? She anticipated his question.

"I used to love coming home after a victory. We would have wonderful celebrations knowing that we had defeated evil and good lived on for another day. I won! And I loved to win. I would sing and dance and laugh. My sisters and I would eat cake, a sweet reward for the energy we had put into the battle. But evil never sleeps, it is never truly defeated and so the war rages on but I am weary now, so weary."

Battle weary. So the blood and carnage, death and destruction had taken its toll even if it hadn't taken the ones she cared about most. But that was it wasn't it. She cared for anyone who had the capacity for good, the lowest man to the highest king, she believed in life and cared deeply for all. She said once she cared so much sometimes it would break her heart to see the evil that is done to good people. He never understood how much she cared until now. Maybe it was because so often she carried on as normal, never broke down, at least not in front of him.

"It was better in those days because I thought when the great final battle came, evil would finally be defeated and we would finally be welcomed home."

There was a legend behind those words, Eomer had heard it once before but he could not remember what it was.

"But I have fought many great battles, each one more terrible then the last but there was no final battle, no great war to end all wars, there is no home, no kingdom where peace and happiness reigns. Now I know that every great battle I fight is just a prelude to an even greater and bigger battle and I'm only allowed these victories now because I will lose that final battle. The only way it ends is if I die. And even then the war will rage on and I would not be able to protect the people, to save them from the dark"

Eomer could not say anything to ease her pain. He could not say anything that would turn her negative thoughts to positive. All he could do was just sit beside her as she had done with him and listen as she revealed her deepest fears. He had felt this way himself, as if all hope was lost

She turned her head to face him and the tears had begun to leak from her eyes. He gathered her into his arms and it was then that she broke down. She cried. She clutched on to his shirt for dear life and wept, wept until she was spent. He could not remember when he leaned back on the bed against the pillows with her in his arms or when she had stopped weeping but he lay there now with her sleeping in his arms, her head nestled in the crook of his neck, her arm around his waist. He gathered her more closely to him. She would not find solace in the embrace of darkness this night, this night he hoped she found solace in him.

***

Sleep had found him during the night and he awoke the next morning in her bed, the covers lightly draped over him and she was no longer in his arms. He woke from the bed with a jolt and looked around the room. He found her sitting at the foot of the bed looking at him. She was dressed now in a fine gown of light blue, her hair loose around her shoulders. He knew she didn't like to wear dresses but she accommodated the customs of Middle Earth. She smiled at him.

"Good Morning." She said to him

"What time is it?" he asked. He looked to the window but could not tell, the day in overcast.

" It's still early. You have three hours yet before midday."

" That is not early." He said groaning as he rolled out of the other side of the bed. He stood up and tried straighten his trousers and tunic.

"It is for me." She lightly quipped and came around the other side of the bed where Eomer was trying to make it look like he hadn't been sleeping in his clothes.

She walked around the bed to stand in front of him and with a few sharp tugs of his sleeves and at the bottom of his tunic some of the creases and crumples were out. She straightened his belt and his trousers and brushed his hair back with her fingers. He at least looked presentable now. She smoothed his tunic across his shoulders and laid her hands on his chest. She did not look in his eyes as she spoke; she was trying to put her mask into place. She did not like being so vulnerable, so exposed. He knew this. She told him once that she thrived on anonimity though there were days she where she liked some attention, to be admired and loved so openly.

"Thank you for staying with me last night. I know I must have been terribly depressing. You really didn't have to stay and listen."

"I wanted to." He replied simply

"Most just let me be."

"I imagine you push them away, that you'd rather not let them see you cry as if it might make you seem weak to them." She did not respond to that, a guilty look in her eye. He continued on curious about something. "Why did you not push me away?"

"I did not want you to go." She replied quietly

"You friends were concerned last night. They care for you."

She knew this, she cared for them too.

"They don't like seeing you so sad." He said

"I've been sad for a long time Eomer. So long that it seemed normal to feel that way, that was life. It wasn't until these last few months that I've started to feel happy again, that my friends were once again able to distinguish between when I was happy and when I was sad. The time I've spent with you has been good for me. It had brought me more joy then I have known in a long time."

Although her words were sad, his heart leapt at the prospect of being the one to bring her such joy.

"Perhaps if you talked about . . ."

"Talk about what? My feelings? Would it help? I can't burden people with those thoughts and fears. Least of all my friends. They need me to be strong. They've always looked to be able to know what to do."

"You don't always need to be strong, you don't need this mask of control."

"Yes I do, I have nothing else!"

Eomer took her hands and held them close to his heart

"You have me."

She looked up at him then. Her eyes were glassed over. She was going to cry again. She pulled her hands from him and turned away.

" I can't cry all the time Eomer. I have to bottle things up so I can maintain a certain level of control. Then I can fight the good fight and I will fight until I can no longer do so then I have to be there and be strong for everyone else until I can schedule my breakdowns for when I'm in private. Then I cry and I scream and cry some more until I am spent. Then I get up the next morning, pull myself together and keep going on because what else can I do?"

She had him there. What can anyone do? Even when he had lost all hope for his land and his people he kept fighting on. He couldn't just give up when his men looked to him for leadership. What else could he do? When he was banished from Rohan leading all those loyal to the Mark he had often wished he had brought his sister with him. Eowyn was always so strong in spirit. Eowyn steadied him and kept him strong, he could turn to her in times when the burdens he carried was too much to bear and she in turn had come to him. They shared their burdens as they had shared pain sorrow and suffering. But Eowyn would give her strength to Faramir now. But who did Eomer have? Who did the woman who stood with her back turned to him have?

They had each other.

"You can turn to me." He said finally answering her question

She turned around and looked at him surprised. Her question was obviously rhetorical. He continued on.

"I know everyone looks to you to be a leader, to be strong and all of Middle Earth look to you to lead them out of the darkness that surrounds us. I do understand that burden.

She looked to him but did not say a word. She took an unsteady breath finding her centre again. She knew his words to be true. He did understand.

"You have been most wise in your counsel when I have needed someone to guide me through some of my darker days as King. On days when I feared that the Mark would suffer you have helped me even if you did nothing more than listen." He moved close to but did not touch her. "When you need someone to talk to, to guide you from own darkness I will be here with my hand outstretched to lead you back for you have offered me that same courtesy and I have been most blessed to receive it."

She looked up and smiled at him. She reached up and cupped his face.

"I've given it to you freely because I believe in you Eomer. You are a good King and a great leader and the Riddermark will prosperous under your reign. I could not let you wallow in doubt not when everyone but you sees the great man that you are."

Eomer took her hands from his face and held them close to his heart once again.

"Then let me give to you what you have given to me for I believe in you also and you can truly help lead us though these dark times. Allow me to share in your burden as you have in mine for everyone, even heroes who must lead people through the darkness, need someone to guide their way back to the light."

Her eyes were filled with tears again but this time they shined with hope. He let go of her hands and embraced her. She leaned into him and smiled against his chest.

Outside the clouds had parted and the sun had risen and through the window was shining on King and Warrior embracing the couple in light.


End file.
